


When Boys Become Men

by Jubalii



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Battle, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young men are notoriously arrogant, especially if they're high-class. But when tossed into the throes of battle, sometimes they sink rather than swim. Post-canon oneshot involving the younger generation of the RTC getting a fierce schooling from an old woman and her vampiric cohort(s).</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Boys Become Men

            “Damn it!” Sir Integra cursed, biting hard enough into her cigar that it broke in half. “How the hell can we keep up with this murderer if the police don’t inform us whenever there’s an attack!?” she hissed, running a hand through her hair in agitation. “And better yet, I send my two best agents, and both of you incompetent vampires let him _slip right out from under your noses!_ ”

            “Blame the Police Girl,” Alucard replied in his most irritatingly suave voice. He leaned further into the shadows surrounding the bookcase, nodding towards the young woman standing in the center of the room directly in front of their master’s desk. “She managed to get in my way once again, clumsy creature that she is.” Seras bristled visibly, slowly turning her head just enough to glare at him. Her eyes were hard, mouth set in a dark frown.

            “I am _not_ in the mood,” she said quietly enough that it could have passed unnoticed, if not for the already tense silence of the room. The two locked eyes for a long moment and the edgy atmosphere quickly bubbled into something more dangerous. Captain Bernadotte, who had been standing silent in a corner near Sir Integra’s desk, observed the two with a wry smile. He ducked to hide his amusement at the vampire’s antics, his one good eye glowing in contrast to his pale form, translucent in the moonlight.

            “I don’t care _whose_ fault it was,” Sir Integra snapped irritably. “The fact is that you both managed to fuck up a routine mission, and I am not happy in the slightest. If another village falls prey to this madman before the week is through, the blood will be on your hands,” she growled. Seras turned her head to watch her boss again for a moment before tilting it slightly, peering through her bangs.

            “Well, you can’t expect us to be brilliant every time,” she pointed out matter-of-factly. “After all, we’re not perfect.” Integra lit another cigar, taking a deep drag to calm herself.

            “To err is human, and you’re a vampire,” she countered cooly. “There’s no excuse for a slip-up this big.” The Captain had to hide another grin behind the braid coiled around his neck as Seras let out an indignant scoff.

            “ _Honestly_!” she half-shrieked, brow furrowing. “What the hell does that mean? I’d like to _you_ go out there and try to do better!” Alucard raised a brow at this little outburst, which his master seemed to take in stride and ignore completely. He’d noticed since his return a few months ago that Seras had taken up a very familiar tone with the heiress, to the point that they sometimes bickered more like sisters rather than superior and subordinate.

            “I wouldn’t have to try,” the older woman replied curtly. “I know I couldn’t possibly botch this up any more than you have already.” Seras scowled and was gearing up for a reply when her familiar piped up from his corner.

            “The kids are here,” he stated, picking at his nails. Integra and Seras both stopped and looked at him with matching expressions of disbelief. “Just thought you’d like to know,” he said when he looked up and caught them staring. “Why do you look so surprised? Have you forgotten what night it is?”

            “No,” Integra responded, looking down at her watch. “I’m just surprised that it’s already 8:00.” Alucard leaned forward slightly, his sunglasses catching the moonlight reflected off of the tiled floor.

            _Kids_? he murmured curiously into her mind. His expression was neutral, but she could hear the hint of puzzlement behind the question. She realized that he had no idea they were talking about the younger Knights, who were all in their early twenties. Thinking back, she also realized that since Alucard had been back these past few months, the boys hadn’t come around for one reason or another: fencing tournaments, government meetings, family affairs, and the like. He’d not seen them yet.

            She hid her mind from him, enjoying the flash of irritation that sparked along their bond as he understood she wouldn’t be the one to answer his question. It was better that he figure it out for himself, anyway. The last time she let him know that someone was coming into the house, he’d popped in on her impromptu orientation with the Wild Geese. She’d had to offer them a bonus just to keep them, as well as a contractual amendment which stated that Alucard wouldn’t toy with them in any way while they were on the premises.

            “Very well,” she sighed at length, dismissing them with a wave. “Seras, go down and entertain them while I prepare. I don’t want another armory incident on my hands like _last_ time. Alucard, you may leave too.” She leaned back, intent on finishing her cigar before heading downstairs to corral the lazy young men into their training for the night.

            “Yes, Sir,” Seras answered dutifully, turning on her heel and tossing her hair cheekily at Alucard as she left through the door. Her ghostly companion vanished into the wall, leaving behind the stale odor of cheap cigarettes. Alucard dispersed into the air, phasing through the manor to stand in the shadows of a hallway near the foyer.

He pulled himself back together, looking up just in time to see Seras begin to descend the stairs. From his viewpoint, he could see the entire floor of the manor’s lobby as well as half of the upper story beyond the railing, but unless someone came purposefully in his direction they wouldn’t notice him hidden halfway between a pillar and the edge of the staircase.

There were eleven young men standing in the foyer, dressed in neat suits and polished shoes and looking rather bored. They stood in a cluster together, talking in low voices that occasionally rose above a whisper and divulged that the object of their discussion was the worldwide soccer tourneys being held in Sweden at the moment. The smallest of the group, a boy-faced man with a sparse mustache and darker complexion, was arguing with a tall blonde who’s pompous smirk looked completely natural on his thin face. The former was wagging his finger at the taller man, shaking his head.

“It’s just not going to be Finland,” he was saying, stuttering slightly. “I can’t say why, but I have a feeling that tomorrow, France is going to trump Finland horribly. They’ll be out of the running, mark my words.”

“You bloody idiot,” the other scoffed presumptuously, his snide voice matching his arrogant face. _Ah, and here’s an Irons if I’ve ever seen one¸_ Alucard thought in amusement. _So the control of the government has already changed hands to these whelps. Or will in a few years, anyway._ He listened as the man continued to speak. “ _France_ cannot outplay _Finland_. It’s just not happening.”

“Is too,” the other reiterated stubbornly.

“Is not!” The blonde crossed his arms, his smirk twisting into a frown. “I’ve watched this tournament _every day_ now with my father, and I tell you those frogs don’t even know what the ball looks like, much less which goal to kick it in.” The plump boy pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. Turning away, he saw Seras on the stairs and his cheeks immediately flooded with a vibrant pink hue.

“M-m-Miss Victoria,” he sputtered, his eyes shining with a strange mixture of awe and something akin to infatuation. “Go-go-good day to you,” he added, his stutter managing to triple its impact on his speech in the time it took her to get down the stairs. She smiled at him, somehow dazzling the poor boy without showing a single tooth. The blonde man looked as well, but his gaze darkened with apprehension.

“Good evening, Penwood,” she inclined her head in a nod as she spoke in a soft, elegant voice. The man managed to blush even deeper, pushing himself back into the rest of the group in his embarrassment. She turned her eyes to the blonde. “Irons, nice to see you’re as conceited as always.” The man set his jaw, but shrank in on himself and didn’t answer, looking away.

Alucard barely kept from laughing and giving away his vantage point as Seras walked forward slowly, her shadows brushing around her like hellfire. When she’d cornered him and demanded to drink his blood, she’d grown her arm back with little difficulty afterwards. However, she still seemed to like the effect her shadows had on her person, and when she had an audience she enjoyed making them creep up her body, accenting her curves.

            He chuckled darkly, taking care to keep his laughter inside as he watched her move towards the men. She held some sort of influence over them (or at least it seemed that way), for they averted their eyes as if trying to avoid her gaze and parted ways like the Red Sea, letting her pass without impeding her. She looked on them as a noble might look on a group of peasant children playing in the street—with a sort of detached fondness, but all the while keeping the mindset that she didn’t move in the same circles as they did.

The difference that intrigued Alucard was that before he left, she’d have been the shy, subservient one. Now, she walked through them like she held the power, and they recognized her authority and stepped aside without raising the smallest fuss. _Hmm, this is interesting,_ he noted as he watched the scene unfold.

“Well, there’s a lass,” a familiar voice said, but the once-powerful words were wizened with age and weariness. Alucard saw an ancient man coming from the parted center of the group. His hand was clutching a cane, but while he walked with a limp his demeanor was still one of supremacy. He didn’t seem at all ashamed of his dependency on the cane; instead, it looked as though it might always have been a part of him.

“Or, should I say, a Lady.” Seras stopped before him, offering him a respectful bow. He returned it as best he could, his eyes twinkling with a youthful light that didn’t match his wrinkled features. He regarded her with a scrutinizing air, holding a cigarette loosely between his lips. _So, Walsh was the one that survived them all._ Alucard sneered. _Why am I not surprised?_

“Lieutenant,” Seras greeted him professionally, her behavior showing that she placed him above her in whatever little hierarchy she had drawn up in her mind. “Don’t bother calling me Lady anything,” she said laughingly when she straightened out of her bow. “Miss Victoria will do fine, unless you don’t mind being informal and just calling me Seras.”

“No, I think Lady is more appropriate,” he murmured, cocking his head to both sides as he stared at her. “Something about you’s changed since we last met. I can’t put my finger on it, but I can see it plain as day all the same.” He narrowed his eyes, and the Penwood boy piped up from the sidelines.

“She’s got two arms like a normal person,” he blurted, before realizing that his comment sounded offensive and ducked back behind his taller peers. A brown-haired boy with glasses leaned forward.

“Yes, she has, hasn’t she?” he said in a scholarly tone. “And her bite marks are gone as well—you can’t see them under her collar anymore,” he added in a hushed undertone to the young man standing next to him. The man nodded in agreement, but didn’t comment.

“ _Fools_!” Walsh barked, turning on the youngsters like a savage dog as they whispered among themselves. They silenced immediately, their eyes widening under the sheer anger behind the one word. “That’s _not_ what I meant!” He set his cane down firmly, leaning on it as he held his hand up and launched into a lecture.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s got one arm or two, or ten! A vampire,” he said slowly, looking over the line of men backed against the wall in a huddle, his gaze lingering on each of them in turn to make sure they were listening. “A vampire can change its form just like that,” he declared, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “She could be a boy, or a girl or—or a bloomin’ pigeon, for all I care. It _doesn’t_ _matter_ what form she’s in, got it?”

“Yes sir,” came a chorus of weak voices. But the old lieutenant wasn’t finished.

“Take a good look at her. Don’t you see what I mean? It’s not about bite marks or arms; not in the slightest. Can’t you feel the hair on your neck rising up when she gets close? Did you not get that shiver down your spine?” Seras looked uncomfortable at the thought of making anyone feel that way, but she didn’t say anything. “Do you boys listen to your instincts at all?” he yelled, leaning forward on the cane. Although he had shrunk in his old age, he still managed to loom even over the lofty head of the Irons boy.

“Um, well…” they muttered, looking around as if daring each other to answer first. The old man watched them squirm for a moment before continuing.

“This girl is a prime example of what you’ll face in the real world. Your daddies might coddle you now, but the truth is that one day you’ll be face to face with a monster out there, and they’re not all polite and dainty like this young lady. Listen to your instincts!” he repeated, shaking his fist. “Take note of that shiver! Look at her; she reeks of power, that aura that practically pours off her skin, the bottomless, strange colour in her eyes; this young lady is—is—”

“A proper vampire?” Alucard was unable to stop himself; the old man’s speech had struck a chord inside him. This seasoned old geezer was able to see what _he_ saw, what people used to see, back when men were men and boys didn’t parade in suits and pretend to be all-knowing.

This old man had taken one look at Seras and knew, deep in the most instinctive part of his soul, that Seras was a dangerous being now. She had grown into her powers and her body, demanded her independence and gotten it, and now only her personal motives kept her from walking down the street and slaughtering humans as she saw fit. To think of the possibilities, about what she was capable of now; it was… _mouthwatering_ , he had to admit. Such a fascinating creature, like an exotic multi-colored butterfly that emerged from a bland little cocoon.

The men all turned as one to see where the voice had come from. He’d phased to the top of the stairs, staring down at them all. He knew they couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, and the shadow of his hat played across his countenance. He was a dark mystery, and if the Police Girl couldn’t strike fear in their hearts, he most certainly could.

“The Police Girl might be a clumsy, shrieking nitwit at times,” he admitted, heading down the stairs only to stand at the bottom and look the assembly over once more. “But she _is_ one of the stronger of our kind. She could rip you all apart in a matter of seconds without breaking a sweat,” he declared wickedly, taking a delight in finally being able to say the words. This was what she was always supposed to be, not that weak, sniveling, blood-refusing girl he’d once known.

The young men stared at him openly, mouths agape, expressions ranging from confusion to outright alarm. He could tell they had never been told about him, or if they had, they didn’t know who he was. Their faces showed that they were nervous, and yet puzzled at _why_ they felt nervous. He graced them with his most ferocious grin, every fang on full display, and was thrilled when a collective shiver ran like a wave through the group.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Walsh swore, whistling approvingly as he caught sight of the vampire. “Where’d you come from, you bastard? Last I heard, you’d skipped out the minute you got a chance.” Seras sniffed and turned her head, refusing to look at him. The men saw her defiant gesture and ventured more furtive glances at him, as if attempting to figure him out.

“ _Police Girl_?” he heard one whisper to another. “Are Hellsing operatives even classified as police?” The latter shrugged and made a “shh” gesture as he looked through his lashes at the dark-haired vampire.

“What’s going on in here?” Sir Integra appeared and leaned over the railing, looking at the people gathered in her lobby. “Why aren’t you getting ready?” she asked arching a brow. “You know the routine, men.”

“Sir Integra!” Seras called boldly, stepping forward. “How about you let _me_ train with them tonight?” she asked, her cheerfulness filling the young Knights’ hearts with a sense of cold dread. “We’ve been talking about what they might face in a real world battle,” she explained, when Sir Integra blinked at her uncomprehendingly. “I think it’s time we give them a little taste, don’t you?”

“Ah,” the old woman breathed, laughing as she considered it. “Fine, fine, but Alucard sits this one out,” she noted as the crimson-clad vampire considered joining in the fun. He smiled, knowing that she would say something like that the minute she sensed the thought crossing his mind. “And no blessed bullets. I don’t them wasting my supply on _you_ , Seras.”

“What?!” Irons blurted, the sound almost involuntary. “We-We’re going to be shooting at _her_?” Seras turned to address him, one hand on her hip.

“What’s the matter, Irons? You’re always talking about how you’d be ready for another attack on London, aren’t you? Let’s see how ready you really are.” The men exchanged wary glances with each other, but obediently trudged into the supply room to prepare their weapons. Tonight, they’d really need them.

* * *

“I thought I told you to sit this out,” Integra said as Alucard moved up next to her. She was standing with Walsh in the sidelines of the main training field, arms crossed as she watched the young men getting ready. Alucard knew she and Walsh were wearing bulletproof vests underneath their suit jackets as a precaution, but they were far enough away that if a stray bullet did manage to hit them it wouldn’t cause _too_ much harm. Besides, he could catch the bullet far faster than they could dodge.

“I am,” he admitted, placing his arms behind his back as he surveyed the youngsters along with his master and the old lieutenant. “I’m here to watch, not to participate. I want to see what the Police Girl has up her sleeve.” Sir Integra laughed wryly, her one good eye twinkling with a mischievous light.

“I doubt she’ll do anything terribly horrid to them,” she mused. “Undoubtedly she just wants to put a little fear in them; rough them up a bit, as they say.”

“It’s for their own good,” Lt. Walsh added firmly, leaning heavily on his cane in the wet turf. The dew had already fallen, and it made it hard for him to get a good footing with his bad leg. “These boys need a wake-up call, and that lass should give them one they’ll never forget.”

“I was just telling her a few months ago that they need some adversity in their lives,” Integra replied solemnly. “The world’s been too peaceful as of late. They have no idea what we used to have to deal with.”

“Right you are,” Walsh cackled, coughing on his cigarette smoke. He wiped his eyes when he was able to calm down. “This new generation is a bunch of pansies. We oughta put them in military uniforms and send them off on duty for a year or two.” He shook his head. “My little granddaughter’s only twelve, and she already has more gumption than half those boys put together.”

“Maybe she should be the one out here training to be a lieutenant,” Integra commented shrewdly. Walsh snorted.

“That’s what I say, to tell the truth. But her father had a conniption fit the last time I even suggested I start teaching her how to use weapons.” Integra chuckled, but before she could reply Seras had passed on her way towards the field. She looked at the three of them questioningly, but didn’t speak as she walked on. She made it to the center of the field and looked at the line of men, shaking her head and saying something. She was far enough away that they couldn’t hear her well, and suddenly the Captain was at Alucard’s other side, speaking for her.

“She says you need to spread out some more. In the real world, you wouldn’t be bunched up like that,” he called, and Seras nodded vigorously and motioned with her hands for them to split apart. They watched her with grim expressions, but obediently they began to disperse to spots along the perimeter of the field. Finally Seras nodded in satisfaction and stood still, hands unmoving at her sides, mouth still moving.

“She says she’s gonna go easy on you _jeunes_ , and let you make the first move. And she’s not going to let me fight, either. So, really,” he concluded tipping his hat, “this should be over rather quickly, seeing as she isn’t even going to use her full power.” He smirked, winking at Integra as he moved over to stand between her and Walsh. “I can’t wait to see this,” he told them, an undercurrent of glee in his voice.

“Fire when ready, boys,” Sir Integra said when nothing happened. The men all looked at her, clearing their throats. “What’s the matter? She’s a vampire that’s been killing humans, and will come after your families if you don’t kill her now. Every second you waste is another life lost.”

Finally Irons fired on her, the bullet grazing Seras’ left arm. As quickly as the wound was there it was gone, and the two drops of blood staining the grass were the only clue that the bullet had hit her at all. Integra clucked, shaking her head.

“What was _that?_ ” she shouted at him. “She’s a vampire! Shooting her in the arm isn’t going to do a damn thing. Aim for her head, or her heart.” She shook her head again. “That’s one of the first things I ever taught you boys; don’t tell me I need to take you back to grade school.”

Irons’ cheeks burned with resentment and he fired again, this time aiming three shots directly at her head. He missed the mark and hit her neck instead, rocking the girl’s head sideways as bone became visible and sinewy strands of tissue and blood filled the air. He winced, and the other men let out mingled gasps and sounds of disgust.

“Amateurs,” Lt. Walsh sighed. “I half-expect one of them to vomit before it’s over.” The men on the field lowered their weapons a fraction of an inch, looking at each other as Seras stumbled back, her head hanging by only a thread of meat. Alucard could see the question in their eyes: _Is it over? Is that it?_

Irons gave a satisfied smirk and arched a brow imperiously, only to have his smile falter as the body remained standing and one hand pushed her head back onto her neck. In the moonlight, you could see the skin and muscle knitting itself back together and within thirty seconds the Draculina’s body was whole once more. She twisted her head as if testing out the strength of her renewed neck before grinning and sinking into a crouch.

Alucard felt her aura wash over the field, and the men’s response to the supernatural energy was instantaneous. He smelled the pheromones that made up human fear, saw the blood rush from their faces, and he noted that they were bringing their weapons back up. But they weren’t fast enough, not to beat _her_. The moment’s hesitation was about to haunt them.

She sprang forward, blinking out of human sight faster than they could comprehend. In the next instant, she’d grabbed Irons and disarmed him with a swift police maneuver, his gun dropping to the dirt next to their bodies as she twisted his arm behind his back. She grabbed his chin with her free hand, jerking his head to the side to expose his neck (though the move looked savage and rough, Alucard noticed that she treated him very gently).  

She leered darkly, bending her head to barely lick over the young man’s artery. Alucard mirrored her triumphant expression, hearing the boy’s heart thundering in his chest. She moved to his ear and he read her lips as she whispered into his ear. _You’re dead_.

The realization hit home and he gave a little yelp of alarm, sinking to his knees when she let him go. He wiped the dampness from his neck with shaking hands, but before he could do more she lodged her boot beneath his arm and flipped him to his back, grinning cruelly as she licked the remnants of her blood from one hand.

“Go on; play dead, little boy,” she sneered at him, sounding much more like Alucard than herself. “Unless you want to rise up and be my Ghoul, that is.” He shook his head feebly and stayed on the ground, his face nearly at white as hers and all pretentiousness forgotten. She chuckled and turned on the remaining men; they all seemed paralyzed with fear, but when she moved they began firing simultaneously.

She dodged the bullets at a lazy speed, making more of a theatrical show than anything else as she dispatched the men. They were at their wit’s end with her, trying to keep up with her superhuman movements as she decimated their ranks one by one. Sir Integra looked as though she wanted to storm out there and physically shake them all by the shoulders.

“Keep your heads on!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You’re panicking!” She grumbled to herself, throwing her cigar down and stomping it half with her heel. “What the hell have I been teaching you for, if you’re just going to forget everything the minute you see real battle?!”

She had the brown-haired one with glasses by the collar, her hand forcing back his chin to get a clean shot at his neck when a bullet ripped off her arm from the elbow down. In quick succession, another two shots had her on the ground, her legs lying in the dust a few meters away. Alucard looked for the shooter and saw that the perpetrator was the Penwood boy. Sir Integra smiled and nodded approvingly.

“That’s more like it,” she said to Pip under her breath. The captain smirked.

“It won’t keep her down for long, though. And they’ve stopped moving again,” he noted, jerking his head at the field. True to his word, the young men had stopped firing and were staring at Seras’ unmoving body with wary expressions. They hadn’t forgotten Irons’ mistake, but at the same time they were still confused about whether or not they’d achieved a victory over her.

“ _WHAT THE HELL_!” Sir Integra was practically foaming at the mouth. “ _SHOOT HER IN THE HEART! HER **HEART** , YOU BLOODY IDIOTS_!” She seemed on the verge of tearing her hair out. Pip laughed uproariously, holding his sides, and Walsh was shaking his head with an annoyed expression.

“Twenty-odd years of teaching and they _still_ can’t get it right. What the hell is this generation coming to?” he complained. The Knights looked at the threesome with wide eyes before realizing their mistake as shadows moved over the ground and connected the shattered legs to Seras’ body like a child’s game of connect-the-dots. She stood, laughing wickedly, eyes glimmering with faux-maliciousness.

She threw the brown-haired boy clear across the field (her shadows caught him before he broke his neck on the ground, setting him down gently), and then turned her gaze on the red-haired one.

“Tsk, Tsk, Gregory. And you were doing so well, too,” she sneered. The boy gulped audibly and raised his pistol, but it shook so violently under her stare that it wasn’t much protection at all.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, grabbing him by the shirt with her shadows and dragging him towards her slowly. The pistol dropped and he looked close to tears. The dark circles beneath his eyes were more prominent as he blanched, gaining a sickly complexion instead. “Are you frightened of me?” She bared her fangs, clearly ready to add another to her “undead” horde lying on the ground with despondent, humiliated faces.

 _Bang!_ Her eyes widened in surprise and the shadows released Penwood as she stared down at the hole in her stomach. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ Three shots, hitting her in the backs of her knees and through her cheek, brought her down.

The ginger-haired boy threw down his gun and rushed past Penwood, who was standing frozen. He kicked Seras over onto her back and pinned her, pulling a knife from within his coat pocket and pressing it barely to the skin of her chest.

“Stab,” he said, pretending to thrust the knife though her heart. “You’re dead, the Ghouls are dead.” He faltered when she didn’t get up, but once he moved the knife she sat up and kissed his forehead.

“Good job,” she said cheerfully, winking. “You got me, Max.” The boy smiled and his cheeks blushed to rival his hair, his freckles standing out in contrast to the blotch of color. He got off of her and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.

“That’a boy!” Lt. Walsh laughed croakily, his fist waving proudly. “ _That’s_ how a Walsh fights!”

“It’s about damn time!” Integra added coldly, arms crossed as she glowered at the boys picking themselves off the ground. “It’s clear you need _much_ more training. I want you here every Friday evening for the foreseeable future. You’re nowhere near ready to be in a real fight.” A chorus of groans went up at the command, but one look from her steely eyes quickly silenced the protests.

Alucard watched the men move towards the manor, Integra scolding them the entire way with Walsh hobbling along behind them. Pip vanished, presumably to resume his nightly tour of the house, and Seras dusted herself off.

“Well, Police Girl. It looks like they didn’t put up much of a fight,” he remarked casually. Seras sniffed.

“No, but neither did I. I really went easier on them then I let on… but I didn’t say anything.” She giggled. “I wouldn’t have wanted to ruin their hopes entirely. Though it was nice to bring Irons down a peg or two. Apparently the entire family runs off the thought that the sun rises and sets on _their_ house first.”

“Indeed,” Alucard murmured. “Perhaps one day you and I should spar a little, to take a _real_ measure of your power.”

“No, thank you!” she exclaimed, walking around him.

“Oh?” He watched her turn, a smile playing at the edge of her lips.

“After all, I wouldn’t want to ruin _your_ hopes either,” she replied snarkily, bursting into laughter when his face darkened and running in a dead sprint towards the house, leaping clear over the fountain and up the stairs before going inside.

“Humph.” He rolled his eyes at her childish antics, but even her playful little barb couldn’t bother him too much. He took one more look at the bright moon moving lower in the sky, making way for the sun, and then moved slowly towards the manor himself.

_What an interesting night._

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of the little oneshots that burrowed its way into my mind following the release of the final Hellsing: Ultimate IX and X DVD. The English voice for the young Irons had maybe 2 lines, but he was so overly pompous and self-assured that an entire character was developed in those two lines. I had no choice but to obey my muse and write.


End file.
